


That Wasn't Me

by Rodham



Category: Political RPF, Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 11:49:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9322256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rodham/pseuds/Rodham
Summary: Whatever you see, that wasn't me.*Companion piece to Better Man.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Song by Brandi Carlile.

_Tell me did I go on a tangent?_  
_Did I lie through my teeth?_  
_Did I cause you to stumble on your feet?_  
_Did I bring shame on my family?_  
_Did it show when I was weak?_  
_Whatever you see, that wasn't me_

  
  
Lights flashed all around and people yelled for a comment on this or that. People always wanted a comment. Tonight was not supposed to be a night for comments, though. Tonight they were celebrating a record fundraising year for the Clinton Foundation and hopefully make a little more money if all the rich people that wanted just a picture with the former president would reach deep enough into their pockets. It was all for good, he told himself. And he was proud of himself for the life he had made since leaving the White House but there’s a stark difference between happiness and being content.

He supposed he was content. He was able to make a difference in the world without having to answer to other people and he always had enough people around to hold court if he wanted to. There were always people around, most of all young women who thought maybe now that the former president was single they may have a chance. Or at least a moment of his time.

Case in point, the young woman on his arm tonight. Abby was barely thirty and looked even younger when she wasn’t covered from head to toe in expensive clothing, makeup and jewelry. Not that he would know what she looked like underneath said clothing. Contrary to popular belief he hadn’t dated or slept with anyone in almost a year. It was odd for him but if just didn’t feel right.

The shouting brought him back to the moment and he heard someone yell Hillary’s name, asking if they still spoke, what she thought about his new ‘relationship’. His daughter who was right behind him saw his face shift just enough that most wouldn’t notice. She pulled her boyfriend Marc’s arm to walk a little faster and moved her father along into the building and out of the press’ eye.

“You okay?” she asked once the doors closed behind them. He gave her a look just of gratitude.

“Yeah. Let’s go in,” he suggested and lead his date along with Chelsea and Marc into the ballroom where everyone again stilled what they were doing to take notice of the former president and first daughter.

The night went on like every other dinner or gala he’d hosted. Everyone wanting to schmooze with a former president asking what his next plans are, when is the next book coming out, is he travelling anywhere soon? One topic that no one was brave enough to broach was that of his ex-wife. It was a topic that he was both happy and sad that people were steering clear of. While he loved talking about her accomplishments and what she was doing in the senate, he knew that wasn’t his place anymore.

Chelsea and Marc had been out on the dance floor and walking back towards their table when she noticed the far off look on her father’s face. Abby was animatedly talking to him but Chelsea could tell that her father wasn’t paying attention to anything she was saying. She turned to Marc and gave him a pleading look. He knew what she wanted. She wanted him to ask Abby to dance so she could have a moment to speak with her father and he was happy to help. Marc knew how close Chelsea was to her father and even he could tell that the president was not exactly present at the moment.

“Daddy,” she called, getting his attention. It was then that he noticed not only was she sitting next to him but that Abby was no longer there. He was also caught off guard by the use of the childish term she had used. She usually only used ‘daddy’ when she was teasing him but more often she was using the term when she knew he was upset. Maybe it was her way of telling him that he still mattered to her and she still needed him in her life.

“Hi, Baby girl,” he said and pulled her closer so he could press a kiss to her temple.

“Marc asked Abby to dance,” she offered after a moment when he looked around for his young date.

“That was nice of him,” he replied once he cleared his throat softly.

“She seems nice,” Chelsea said, not sure how to get her father to talk in this setting. Normally he was a little reluctant to open up to her about her mother for obvious reasons at home but she knew he wouldn’t want to say anything when there could be people listening to them.

“Yeah, she started working at the foundation a few weeks ago. She works in accounting.”

“Is it serious?” she asked and wasn’t sure if she should be relieved when he let out a soft laugh.

“Honey, it isn’t anything. She was in the board room with a few of us and someone started talking about the gala and they asked if I was bringing anyone. I said no and joked that I should take one of the women in the room and she offered. I was a little taken aback by it but she seems like a nice girl. But that’s all, sweetie,” he explained. He watched his daughter take in the information he had just given her. He knew that she probably read all the articles about him being out on the town with all these women and he used to know that she would immediately think they were false. After everything he’s done to break her trust, he hoped that she still believed he wasn’t the man they described in the tabloids.

“Okay,” Chelsea said softly.

“If I ever do start dating again, you’ll be the first to know,” he assured her. He grabbed her hand and gave it a soft squeeze.

“What do you mean, if you ever? Dad, you’re still young. You have plenty of time to find a new partner.”

“I don’t think that will ever happen, sweetheart.” He saw her start to protest and cut her off before she could get a word out. “I believe that you truly only have one great love in your life and I messed that up.” She shook her head again and opened her mouth but he continued. “No, I’m serious. Your mother and you were the best thing that ever happened to me and I messed that up. I’ll never love anyone the way I love your mom.”

Chelsea looked up when she noticed that he said ‘love’, as in the present tense instead of ‘loved’. She knew that he parents still loved each other, deeply, but they usually didn’t voice that. There have been many times when she stopped by her mother’s house to find her sitting on the floor with a box that Chelsea wasn’t supposed to know about, photos and letters scattered all around her with tears in her eyes. Those days Chelsea would go back downstairs and stay until her mother was finished and then pretend like she had just arrived when her mother would emerge from the past, makeup and hair in place as if nothing had happened.

Her father was worse at hiding it. He still kept their wedding photo on the mantle in his penthouse apartment. Chelsea also knew about the photo album he kept in his bedside table that he looked at almost every night. He kept a tin of orange pekoe tea in the kitchen cabinet because it was her mother’s favorite, though he didn’t drink tea. She knew about the long chain he wore around his neck that held his wedding band because he refused to part with it completely. She had accidentally opened the wrong drawer in his closet one day to find it full of things that had once belonged to her mother. A scarf, a pair of gloves too small for even Chelsea’s hands, lotion that she knew her father never used and a bottle of perfume her mother had worn for years had been among some of its contents.

She knew the saying ‘sometimes love isn’t enough’, but she wasn’t so sure. She knew they had both made mistakes but they seemed like they were more miserable without each other than with the other even when everything was going to Hell. She also knew that it was going to take them both a while to figure out their lives separate from each other but she didn’t know how much longer she could take watching them.

She squeezed his hand back and they settled into an easy silence. The evening was thankfully going by quickly and before they knew it, Bill stood up to give his speech and ask everyone to take out their checkbooks one last time and then they all said goodnight. He said goodnight to Chelsea and Marc by the car and watched them step in and drive off.

His car pulled up and he got in with Abby, who was getting friendlier the more they stood close to one another. When they got into the car, she placed her hand on his leg and began to move it upwards. His hand stopped hers and she gave him a questioning look. Luckily, it didn’t last long as they arrived at his building in a few minutes. Bill stepped out of the car but didn’t offer a hand to Abby.

“Dave,” he called to the driver. “Please make sure she gets home safely.”

“Sure thing, boss,” the young man called back. Abby gave him a look he wasn’t sure was that of hurt or anger but he didn’t really care. He closed the door and was greeted by the doorman and his agent in charge when he walked towards the building.

He was settling in for the night when he reached for a tumbler of scotch, turned the television on and walked over to his bed. He pulled out the photo album and began flipping the pages. Running his fingers over the glossy pages, he was still astounded that he found new or forgotten beautiful things about his wife every time he looked at her. He looked up in time to see the woman in his photos on the screen in front of him

“Senator Hillary Rodham proposed a bill today to help fund health coverage for first responders from 9-11. The senator had been adamant that the government take care of these brave men and women who risked their lives and were told that the air was safe.”

They showed a clip of her making her argument in front of congress and he was so damn proud of her. He absentmindedly reached for the phone and dialed a number he had used hundreds of times over the last year and a half.

“Do you know what time it is?” the male voice asked.

“I’m sorry,” Bill said, but there wasn’t much feeling in his voice.

“Well, that’s what you pay me for. What’s going on?”

“Do you think that she could ever forgive me?” Bill asked. He heard shuffling on the other end of the phone. “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting out of bed. This is going to be a long conversation I might as well get up and make a cup of coffee,” his therapist said.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, I haven’t answered you.”

Bill also switched from scotch to coffee. He knew the more alcohol he drank the more sappy he was going to become. Of course, he paid a therapist to listen to him no matter what mood he was in but he didn’t want to get lost in that tonight. Tonight he wanted to think about the possibility of one day being able to look Hillary in the eye again and have her know that he would never lie to her again. He had nothing else to hope for.

 

 _I wanna believe do I make myself a blessing to everyone I meet_  
_When you fall I will get you on your feet_  
_Do I spend time with my family?_  
_Did it show when I was weak?_  
_When that's what you see, that will be me_

 

**Author's Note:**

> Someone had asked me to write a companion piece to a previous story, Better Man, telling Bill's side after the divorce. This is what came out. I hope it's what you were looking for.


End file.
